Grandson of Voldemort
by ilovethecoloursilver
Summary: When Dumbledore finds out that Voldemort has a grandson, he and few other members of the Order, including Harry Potter go to Manhattan to bring him to Hogwarts. Will this child and Harry be best friends or worst enemies?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I'm ilovethecoloursilver and this is my second fanfiction. Technically I'm still writing the first one so... Anyway I've read so many stories like this and none of them were complete. So I decided to give it a shot. Also writing one story can be kind of boring. Please don't forget to like, follow and review :):):)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter. I only own the plot.**

* * *

"What?" Harry shouted, staring at Dumbledore, dumbfound.

They were at Sirius's place, 12 Grimmauld Place, which served as headquarters for Order of the Phoenix. All of them, even Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George were allowed at this meeting. They were all shocked at first, especially Ginny, considering that she was not allowed for any of the meetings because she was 'too young' as Mrs. Weasley had said, but they had quickly joined, in case they adults changed their mind. You can never be too sure about them.

Dumbledore sighed. He was expecting this reaction from them. He himself had been shocked when he first heard this.

"After leaving Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort took special interest in a girl named Sarah Robertson. Two years later her married her and they had a child. A girl to be more specific. After Sarah found out about her husband's true intentions, she left. Few years later she married a muggle. This man was ready to accept Voldemort's child as her own, not knowing about their magic. Sarah changed her name to Laura so that no one from her magical family could find her. She and her husband died in a plane accident a few years later. Their daughter lived with her uncle who died when she was in high school. She now lives in Manhattan with her son whose father was lost at the sea. This child who is Voldemort's grandson show great potential for magic unlike his mother who is a squib. We think that Voldemort will try to recruit him to the Dark Side. Because of this we need to find him first and bring him to Hogwarts."

"How can anyone like that nose less tyrant?" Ron asked.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you better watch your mouth or else-" Mrs. Weasley said, glaring at her son.

"Sorry, Mom."

Fred, George and Ginny stifled a laugh. Dumbledore looked amused.

"Now what are we supposed to do?" Sirius asked, looking serious.

"Harry, Remus, Alastor and I will go to Manhattan to get this boy." Dumbledore replied.

"Why me? I don't want to meet that murderer's grandson." Harry said indignantly.

First, he was angry with Dumbledore for leaving him in Privet Drive with the Dursleys. They refused to give him answers to all the questions he had been waiting to ask since last February. Ron and Hermione got to stay at Grimmauld Place whereas he was stuck in that hell trying to find out what's been going on in the wizarding world. Then he finds out that his batty, cat-obsessed neighbor was a squib and had to attend a stupid hearing just for saving Dudley's life from a bunch of dementors. Now Dumbledore wants him to go and bring in Voldemort's grandson? No way.

"Because, Harry you are about the same age as him. He'll trust us better if someone of his age was there." Hermione answered, patiently.

"Why can't you go, then? I don- "

"Because Ron is a complete idiot who cannot utter a word to save his life and I speak too much. You're the best they've got." She replied interrupting him.

"Oy! I'm sitting right here" Ron said.

Hermione ignored him. Harry sighed.

"Fine but I need answers first. Doesn't he know about this grandson?" Harry said.

"No. He didn't even know that his wife was pregnant. Recently, he found out about him. He had no interest in his Squib daughter but when he came to know about his grandson he became interested in this case. He felt that he needed more allies. That's why he is trying to get to him. Because of this very reason we need to get to him first." Dumbledore said.

"How did you find out about all this? He will only share this piece of information to his most trusted Death Eaters."

"Let's say I have my sources."

"Snape." Harry, Sirius and Hermione said at the same time.

"How can you trust him? He might even be working for Voldemort and might be tricking you!" Harry argued.

"I trust Severus Snape." Dumbledore said, simply.

"Snivellus." Sirius mumbled under his breath.

Ginny and Tonks giggled. Ron looked like he was about to die laughing and Lupin smiled.

"If he comes with us," Harry said, emphasizing on the word 'if',"where is he going to stay?"

"He is going to stay here till the holidays get over. Then he'll come with us to Hogwarts. He'll also be put in fifth year so that you three can keep an eye on him. Also, this news is not supposed to get out of this room. If anyone, I repeat, anyone shares this news with any other people who are not a part of the Order, he or she will have to face terrible consequences." Dumbledore said, looking at everyone around the room. Everyone except Harry.

"We are going to meet him tomorrow at seven. I expect you all to be ready by then." He said.

"Why? Isn't that late?" Ron asked.

"UK is five hours ahead of Manhattan" Dumbledore replied.

Dumbledore then turned around to leave the room. He was just at the door when Harry decided to ask him a question. He didn't care what the others thought of it. If no one was going to ask it, he was.

"Wait."

Dumbledore turned around to face him. The rest of the Order watched them, waiting for something to happen. They all knew how angry Harry had been after being stuck with the muggles.

"What are their names?" Harry asked, not quite meeting the old professor's gaze. He wasn't sure what he will see in those old, twinkling eyes.

"Sally Jackson. His daughter's name is Sally Jackson"

"And her son's?"

"Perseus Jackson."

* * *

 **That's it! First chapter done! I'll probably update after a month because I have another story going on but I'll still try! Also don't forget to check out my other story, _Julian's Past Life._**

 **Goodbye!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! I was so happy with the reviews and follows so I decided to update. Plus I had already written this chapter in advance so all I had to do was post it. I was really sick last week so I had a lot of work to catch up on. And the next book of Trials of Apollo is coming up! :D Yay! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to keep reviewing!**

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"So what do you expect this guy to be like?" Ron asked them.

Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione and Harry had all come to Ron and Harry's room to discuss about Voldemort's grandson.

"I don't know." Harry admitted, sitting at the end of his bed.

"Well, when we see him we are going to play a few pranks on him." Fred said, looking at his twin.

"Yeah, I want to see how well the Nosebleed Nougats work on him." George replied.

"I wonder what mom would think about him. She will be constantly reminded of our Percy. I bet there is going to be a lot of broken plates and cups by the end of this month." Ginny said.

"I hope we can be good friends with him. If he is as powerful as You-know-who we need him on our side. The second he goes with his grandfather we are doomed." Hermione said, sitting on Ron's bed with Ginny while Ron sat next to Harry.

"What if he is already on their side? I don't trust anyone who is related to You-know-who." Ron said.

"We all trust Sirius even if he is related to Malfoy and Lestrange. We trust Tonks who is also related to those Death Eaters. We even trust Lupin who is a werewolf for that matter. Why can't we trust this boy? You can't judge anyone based on their heritage, Ron. That makes you as bad as Malfoy." Hermione replied angrily, thinking about the time when Malfoy had called her 'mudblood'.

Ron looked sheepish. Harry was thinking about what Hermione had said. She had a point. If he was going to judge people based on their heritage, he was no better than Malfoy. Heck, he wasn't better than Voldemort.

"Well, I'm going to sleep. Let's see what happens tomorrow." Ginny said, standing up to leave. Fred and George disapparated with a crack sound (it was really getting on everyone's nerves) and Hermione followed Ginny. Ron went over to lock the door.

"Well mate, this year is going to be different at Hogwarts, don't you think?" Ron asked getting ready for bed.

Harry didn't reply.

* * *

"Everyone, grab your brooms." Dumbledore said.

Harry, Moody and Lupin were going on brooms. Tonks was also coming, to 'keep Potter safe' as Moody put it. Dumbledore had placed Dissolution Charms on them so that no one would notice, while he was going to apparate to Manhattan. They were all standing outside Grimmauld place and was waiting for Kingsley to give them a sign. Suddenly a patronus came soaring out of nowhere.

"GO!" Moody shouted and they all took off to Manhattan.

Two hours later they were in front of an apartment. Dumbledore was waiting for them, having apparated from the Order's headquarters a few seconds ago. They walked up stairs to a small apartment. Dumbledore rang the doorbell. A woman opened the door.

"Perc- "She said and stopped abruptly, having realized that this was not who she was looking for." Oh. Umm Hello?" She said.

"Good evening. Are you Ms. Jackson?" Dumbledore asked the woman politely.

She looked about 40 with dark brown hair and multicolored eyes. She was a beautiful woman with kind eyes and a small smile on her face. She was wearing a plane white shirt and blue jeans which was covered with flour.

"It's actually Mrs. Jackson- Blofis. I am married." She answered back," And you are?"

"I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore. This is Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Alsator Moody."He said indicating to each one of them. Tonks flinched upon hearing her full name.

"Are you here for my husband Paul?"

"No, we are here regarding your son, Perseus."

Her expression changed. She looked cautious.

"And why are you looking for him? "She asked warily.

"This is regarding his safety. Do you mind if we come in?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could." She said reluctantly "Paul!" she shouted out.

"Sally? Is it Percy?" a man's voice replied from within the house.

"No Paul, but you might want to get back here. We have guests." she added, gesturing for them to sit down," Would you like to drink anything?" She asked them, politely.

"No thank you. When will your son get back home? We have some things to discuss and I am rather in a hurry." Dumbledore said.

"I'm not sure actually. He said he was coming today since Annabeth left Camp to stay with her parents for a few days. Their Camp's activities director said that he had left. So maybe in a few min- "The doorbell rang. Sally ran off to get the door, her face beaming with joy. The wizards and the witch stood up curious to see the grandson of Voldemort. His daughter seemed nice enough, unlike her father who was known for his evil deeds. But since she was a Squib, her father would not seek her. Her son however was to be wary of. Since he showed great magical potential, they did not know what to expect of him.

They saw Sally hug a tall boy and kiss him on the forehead. She took his bag from him and dragged the boy to the apartment, while shouting, "Paul, Percy's home!"

That's when they saw the boy. He looked very familiar, with messy black hair and green eyes. He looked nothing like Voldemort.

He looked like Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! I'm alive! Yay! (Sorry! :P) I was really busy studying for my exam which is tomorrow and I have 1 chapter left! I'm gonna die! I've read the other chapters of this story and found several mistakes. I will edit them soon. Thank you to all those who reviewed about this. I'm sorry but because of my busy schedule, I couldn't write a lot. But after this I will try to make the chapters longer. Thank you for reviewing and following this story :) (Doesn't mean that you should stop reviewing :D )**

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'No' Remus thought, the boy looked like James, but not quite.

The boy had messy black hair, like Prongs. He was also as tall as his best friend and had a mischievous glint in his eyes, a look Remus was very familiar with. But that where the similarities ended. He had startling sea-green eyes which seemed to swirl like the ocean. He had a proper build, which was something Harry lacked, thanks to his _wonderful_ stay with the muggles.

"Hey…" the boy, Perseus said, waving to them, a confused look on him face." Who are you?"

"I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore. This is Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Nyphandora Tonks, and Alastor Moody. I assume that you are Perseus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Percy." The boy said instantly," Its Percy not Perseus. I hate that name and only the people who hate me call me that so…"

"Okay, Percy. We're here because of your grandfather." Remus said

"I don't have a grandfather. Both are dead." Percy said.

"Yes, you have a grandfather, who is very much alive. But you and your family were unaware of his existence." Dumbledore said, and began explaining about the wizarding world and Voldemort. Percy's face changed from surprise to shock.

"And so we need you to come to England to go to Hogwarts. It's for your safety." Tonks said, changing her hair color from bubblegum pink to sea-green.

"Cool!" Percy said, watching her hair." But I need some time to think. I can't just leave my family and friends to save some world of yours. Man, since when did my life become so messed up?" Percy asked himself.

"We don't have time," Harry said, opening his mouth for the first time." Voldemort could be coming for you as we speak."

"Okay fine. Can I discuss with my parents first?" Percy asked. Dumbledore nodded and the family walked to the kitchen, leaving a room of very confused wizards and a witch.

* * *

"What do I do, Mom? I don't want to leave you!" Percy said, sadly.

"Percy, I know that. But I also know that you won't let innocent people die at the hands of an evil person. Your loyalty won't let you do that, Percy. Annabeth would also say the same thing. That's one of the reasons why you are the Hero of Olympus."

"So you want me to go?" Percy asked.

"That depends upon you, Percy. I'm fine with you going to this magical school as long as you promise to Iris-message me every day." Sally said, smiling. Percy chuckled, thinking about the time he sent a message from Alaska telling her not to worry after going missing for two months, thanks to Hera. "But you should call Annabeth and let her know."

"Oh she's going to kill me." Percy said, groaning.

* * *

"Fine." Percy said, walking back to the living room.

He had just spoken with Annabeth, who was with her family on the St. Louis Arch. She was sad when Percy told her about the wizarding world, and that he might have to go to the boarding school in England. But she too agreed with his mom and as long as he Iris messaged her every day, she would be fine. But both of them knew they wouldn't. She even made him promise to visit her during the holidays, which Percy hadn't thought about.

"So you agree to come with us?" Moody asked him in a gruff voice.

"Yes." Percy said. The creepy little eye was staring right at him, which he found very unsettling. He had nearly screamed when he saw that thing.

"Dear Sally," Dumbledore began," This must be hard on you, leaving your son in our hands but I assure you that he is in safe hands."

"Thank you." Sally said. She gave Percy a hug and kissed him on the forehead. It was just so unfair that he had to endure so much at such a young age, but being a demigod had made him a brave, kind and loyal boy. She was proud of her son.

Percy went and gave Paul a hug. Then he went over to the bunch of wizards who were now holding…brooms?

* * *

"No." Percy said, shaking his head. He absolutely refused it.

They were now on the top of the apartment, where they were supposed to fly from. Moody had given Percy a spare broom, but he had declined it. He even looked scared.

"No way. I'm never ever going to fly. Never. You don't know the bad luck around me. Probably a bolt of lightning will hit me and I'll die. I didn't live my life just so I could fall off a broom." Percy said.

"It's nothing to be afraid of." Tonks said. Her hair was sea-green now, so that she could match Percy's eyes. Somehow she found that color fascinating.

"Nonononononononononononnononononon….." Percy said, covering his ears and acting like a baby. Or as Annabeth would say, a Seaweed Brain.

"Fine…you can apparate with Dumbledore." Moody said. Tonks, Harry, Remus and him took off on their broomsticks. Percy sighed, relieved. Even though he was on okay terms with Zeus, after saving the world and everything, there was still a huge possibility that Zeus might blast him out of the sky using the master bolt for target practice. Now that they were gone, he had to stand with Dumbledore which was just awkward.

"So….. why are we not leaving?" Percy asked Gandalf's twin. Leo had made him watch The Lord of the Rings, saying that Percy needed to update his movie knowledge in case an evil Gandalf showed up. Hey, you never know. Anything is possible for a demigod. If someone told him that Superman existed, he would believe it.

"Going to England by broom would take nearly three hours a- "

"Three HOURS!" Percy yelled," SO WE'RE GOING TO WAIT HERE FOR THREE HOURS! YOU KNOW HOW BAD THAT IS FOR AN ADHD KID? I COULD PROBABLY BLOW UP HE WORLD!"

Dumbledore smiled, amused. He had never seen a kid like Percy. He seemed calm, for someone who just found out about the existence of another world an hour ago. He had thought about using Legilimency but had decided against it. He didn't want to use magic on him just yet.

"Before we leave to the headquarters, I need to take you somewhere." He said. He gestured for Percy to take his hand. The boy looked at him cautiously, and finally, took hold of it. They disappeared, leaving no trace of ever being there.

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 **And that's it! I will post another chapter by this week. Don't forget to review and follow!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone. I know you guys are probably mad enough to kill me but honestly I was trying to make this longer. Plus this chapter was super hard to write (You'll see why). I seem to be running out of ideas a lot these days (Not my fault!). Also thank you so much for all the reviews! On a completely unrelated note, I aced my test! Enjoy!**

 **The characters in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.**

* * *

Two words. Never again.

It stunk. It made the Argo II's flight mode seem like Olympus. It was like being sucked through a pipe. A very thin pipe. He hoped he'd never have to do that again. He'd probably die from suffocation.

As soon as he hit the ground, he fell down on his knees and nearly gagged. After about an eternity, he slowly got back on his feet. He was in a huge black room with Bumble- sorry, Dumbledore. They were standing in front of a door. The headmaster slowly opened the door and walked in. Percy followed him, wondering what he was doing here. He gasped.

The entire room was covered in pink. The chair was pink, the books were pink, the table was pink. Even the rotting flowers had a touch of pink on it. Percy wanted to puke, again. It was as if he had entered the Aphrodite cabin. Scratch that, their cabin is much better looking than this mess. Percy wished he had brought sunglasses.

The son of Poseidon was so shocked that he hadn't noticed a lady sitting behind the table. She was wearing a pink blouse and a cardigan with a pink skirt. She was writing on a paper which was, thankfully, not pink. Percy kept his eyes on that piece of paper. If he saw a bit more of pink his eyes would probably explode. And, was the woman writing with a feather? Had she not heard of an ink pen?

"Hello Dolores," Dumbledore said, moving forward." Am I interrupting anything important?"

"Ah, Dumbledore! To what do I owe this… visit?" the woman, Dolores said looking up from her work.

Percy nearly gasped. The woman looked like a toad, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair and pouchy eyes. If a demigod saw her he or she would have screamed and killed her instantly. Percy's hand instantly went to his pocket where he kept Riptide.

"I wanted to ask you a favor. Hogwarts is in short of a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, again. I was hoping that any of the Aurors would be able to fill that post," Dumbledore said, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of him.

"And who is the boy, Dumbledore?" the toad asked, looking at Percy.

"I believe that it is none of your concern Dolores."

"Well, if this boy is in the Ministry of Magic, then it is my concern, Headmaster, as an official of the Ministry to know who he is and what he is doing here in my office."

"He is Perseus Jackson, one of my new students," Dumbledore said. The toad didn't seem to buy it. She looked at him as if he were some sort of dirt on her walls.

"Then why haven't I heard of him?" She said, looking at Dumbledore.

"I said new. He is from America and his mom wanted to give him better magical education. Since she is one of my friends, I suggested sending him to Hogwarts."

"I see. So, Professor, is it necessary for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to be an Auror? It can be any Ministry official. And recently I was discussing with the Minister about the Hogwarts course. It seems as though there is a lot of lies being promoted in Hogwarts after the Tournament. "

"What kind of lies, Dolores? The fact that Voldemort returned-"

"It is NOT a fact, Dumbledore. It is a lie said by a fifteen-year-old boy who thinks that he needs more attention. Do you honestly believe what that boy said, after bringing back the body of a dead student?"

"I believe Harry Potter. That is all I have to say to this matter. As for the available post in the faculty, I merely believe that an Auror would be capable for the job, since they are highly trained in Defense. If any other official is willing to take the post, I would be happy to oblige."

"Then I would be happy to take the job, Headmaster," Dolores said. Percy almost yelled. The fact that this woman was probably going to teach him scared him. He was about to protest when Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Thank you, Dolores. You will get your official letter in about two days' time. Now that this issue is settled, we will be leaving," Dumbledore said, standing up and motioning for Percy to follow him. They left the office, and the door closed behind them. Percy sighed with relief. He was surprised he managed to stay quiet for that long.

Suddenly, Dumbledore grabbed Percy's hand. Before he even realized what was going on, they disappeared.

* * *

"Gaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! OH MY GODS! WHAT?! WHERE!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" Percy yelled at Dumbledore. He was on his knees, his hands clutching his stomach. He was looking a little sick.

Dumbledore quickly flicked his wand, and all the lights in the street went out. They were in the middle of a patch of grass on a small square. The surrounding houses looked very old. Some of them had broken window and paint was peeling off the others.

Dumbledore looked down at Percy and smiled. He then extended his hand out to him. Percy paled.

"Oh no, don't you dare try to do that again! I'm never ever – "Percy yelled, slowly backing away from him.

"I was simply extending my hand to help you up. But if you are fine with lying on the ground and spending the night here, make yourself comfortable," Dumbledore said.

Percy took his hand, mumbling about wizards and their tricks. He stood up, and brushed the dirt from his shirt and jeans. Dumbledore gave him a piece of paper. Percy looked at him in confusion.

"What am I supposed to do with a paper? Wait, is it magical? Does it turn into a cookie by any chance? Because I'm really hungry right now," Percy said, looking at the paper.

"Read it and memorize it," Dumbledore said. Percy stared at the paper and frowned in concentration. After about five minutes, he gave the paper back to the Headmaster, who took it and burnt it. Percy looked around at the houses. They were standing right outside number eleven; next to it was number thirteen.

"Is number twelve going to pop out of here when I think about it?" Percy asked, sarcastically. Dumbledore nodded.

"What? I was just kidding!" Percy exclaimed.

"We don't have much time. Think about what you just memorized," Dumbledore said.

Percy closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened his eyes, number twelve stood in front of him, as though it existed the entire time. Percy wondered whether it was a trick of the Mist.

Dumbledore moved forward and opened the door, with Percy right behind. Together they stepped into the hallway. It smelled like the attic where the Oracle used to live. Percy shuddered at the thought. Dumbledore flicked his wand and the door closed behind them. They then walked down the stairs and through another door leading into a room. Percy could hear people talking. He pushed open the door and walked in.

It was much less gloomy than the hall above, with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the end of the room. A haze of smoke hung in the air, which made him want to cough. A long wooden table stood in the middle of the room. Percy was so focused on the food which was on the table, that he didn't notice the people sitting in there. Most of them were staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear. A woman with flaming red hair walked forward. She somehow reminded him of his Mom.

"Dumbledore! Are you staying here for dinner?" She asked.

"I am afraid not, Molly. I have urgent business to attend to. I came to drop young Percy here," Dumbledore said, smiling.

Molly looked at him and smiled. Yep, this woman definitely reminded him of his Mom.

"Hello, dear," She said, "I'm sure you must be starving," Percy nodded at that, "Well, you can go sit with Harry."

Percy looked around the table and found his green-eyed lookalike. He was sitting with a girl with bushy brown hair and opposite a boy with red hair, exactly like Molly's. If Percy had to take a guess, half the kids sitting there looked like Molly's. Percy gave him a lopsided grin and went to sit with him.

"Hey," He said," How was the trip?"

"Horrible," Percy replied," You wizards have very creepy ways of travelling."

"Technically you are a wizard too, you know," The girl sitting next to Harry said, smiling. "I'm Hermione Granger, Harry's friend."

"Percy Jackson."

"Oh, and this is Ron Weasley. You just met his mom, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. Percy gave him a lopsided grin.

"I'm Fred and he's George," The guy sitting opposite him said," This fool's handsome and smart brothers," George finished, gesturing to Ron.

"Oi! I'm sitting right here," Ron exclaimed, stuffing his face with food.

"Ronald! Manners!" Hermione scolded him. The others laughed.

Suddenly, a plate floated in front of Percy. Since he was used to floating plates in Camp Jupiter, he thankfully did not shriek. He looked across the table to see Mrs. Weasley smiling at him, her wand in her hand.

"Help yourself to anything, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, and then turned around to talk to Lupin.

Percy dug in, grabbing anything and everything he could find. He honestly hadn't eaten anything that day. After the sword fighting lessons he had given to the junior campers, he had rushed home to see his Mom (And fill his stomach with cookies). By that time the wizards had arrived. Seriously, why were the fates so hell bent on making his life an utter and complete mess? Wasn't being a son of the Big Three enough?

"Oh my god, you are worse than Ron," Hermione said, looking at him.

"Mmm hunphuy," Percy said.

"What?"

"He said he's hungry," Ron said, before drinking a glass of water.

"And how would you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Takes on to know one," Harry mumbled. Percy snorted while Ron gave his best friend a glare.

* * *

 **Horrible ending. I know. I'll try to make the next chapters longer. Also, don't forget to review and follow :)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! I know you guys are pissed off at me but here be out before cursing me. I haven't told anyone that I am writing fanfictions, not even to my family. And I would like to keep it that way. So, its a bit hard to write when your Mom is hovering around you to see whether you are studying or not. Anyway this chapter is longer than what I have ever written. Most of it is from Harry Potter but I have edited it a little bit. Also do not forget to review and follow this story. It keeps me motivated.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All of it is the amazing work of J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan. I only own the plot.**

* * *

Three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later, Percy was chatting with Ginny, who was Ron's sister and who reminded him a bit of Thalia, though without the occasional 'I will kill you!'s and the powers and the arrows (He had been on the receiving end of that one, it still hurt every time he touched it). She knew that Percy was the grandson of the magical version of Hitler. Only the members of the Order and their kids knew about Percy's heritage (Well, not the godly one, only the mortal side. Or maybe the wizard side. Wow. His life just got so much weirder). Mr. Weasley was leaning in his chair, relaxed. He had a fascination with mortals and asked a lot about their technology.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs. Weasley said, yawning.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, pushing away his empty plate and turned to look at Harry. Percy was a little intimidated by him. Even though Ginny had told him that Sirius was innocent, he sometimes looked like a madman. But he had respect for him. After being wrongly accused of killing his friends, he still managed to stay sane. If that happened to him, he definitely would have gone on a rampage.

"You know, I thought the first thing you would do when you got here would be start asking questions about Voldemort."

The atmosphere in the room changed rapidly. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name. Percy suddenly felt the power in that one name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

"I did!" said Harry indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so —"

"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young." She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius, "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen —"

"Hang on!" interrupted George loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

" _We've_ been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.

"' _You're too young, you're not in the Order,_ '"said Fred, in a high pitched voice that sounded exactly like his mother's. Percy smirked at that. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," said Sirius calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand —"

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he _needs to know,_ " said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.

Ron, Hermione, Percy, Fred, and George's heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis match. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin's eyes were fixed on Sirius.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he _needs to know_ , Molly," said Sirius. "But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back" (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), "he has more right than most to —"

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" said Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and —"

"— and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and more than some —"

"No one's denying what he's done!" said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still —"

"He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently.

"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. "He's not _James,_ Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius coldly.

"I'm not sure you are!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" said Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are _not_ your father, however much you might look like him!" said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" demanded Sirius, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —"

"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!" said Sirius loudly.

"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley, rounding on her husband. "Arthur, back me up!"

Mr. Weasley did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he say, "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters —"

"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"Personally," said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs. Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from . . . others."

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, "well . . . I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart —"

"He's not your son," said Sirius quietly.

"He's as good as," said Mrs. Weasley fiercely.

"Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!"

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley, her lip curling. "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Sirius started to rise from his chair.

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Lupin sharply. "Sirius, sit _down._ "

Mrs. Weasley's lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Lupin continued.

"He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said at once.

He did not look at Mrs. Weasley. He had been touched by what she had said about his being as good as a son, but he was also impatient at her mollycoddling. Sirius was right, he was _not_ a child.

"Very well," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice cracking. "Ginny — Ron — Hermione — Fred — George — Percy - I want you out of this kitchen, now." There was instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George bellowed together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" shouted Ron.

"I want to know what the heck is going on! "Percy yelled. He was done being in the dark.

"Mum, I _want_ to!" wailed Ginny.

"NO!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, standing up. "I absolutely forbid —"

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "They _are_ of age —"

"They're still at school —"

"But they're legally adults now," said Mr. Weasley in the same tired voice. "Percy, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," He replied instantly.

"I'm sorry Molly, dear, but you can't stop him either." Mr. Weasley said.

Mrs. Weasley was now scarlet in the face.

"I — oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron —"

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" said Ron hotly. "Won't — won't you?" he added uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

For a second, it looked like Harry would say no, but then he spoke.

"'Course I will," Harry said. Ron and Hermione beamed.

"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

Ginny did not go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall Mrs. Black's earsplitting shrieks were added to the din. Lupin hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking his seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke.

"Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?"

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had been obsessing him for a month.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," he said, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything —"

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," said Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway .And we know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do anyway," said Lupin.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked. He knew that Voldemort had murdered more than once in the last year alone.

"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," said Sirius. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," said Lupin with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry asked perplexedly.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" said Sirius. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," said Lupin. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?" Harry asked.

"Are you kidding?" said Bill incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," said Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" said Harry, looking around at them all.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," said Sirius.

"How d'you know what his plans are?" Harry asked quickly.

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," said Lupin, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Build an army," Percy said, thinking of Kronos and Gaea." He wants supporters. The more he gets the more powerful he becomes. And the easier it becomes for him to control the others who fight against him." Everyone looked at him in shock.

"Yes," said Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"Wait a minute. Giants?" Percy asked. Lupin nodded. "We are doomed," Percy mumbled.

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?" Harry continued with his questioning.

"We're doing our best," said Lupin.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," said Bill. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because of the Ministry's attitude," said Tonks. "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."

"But why?" said Harry desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore —"

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," said Mr. Weasley with a wry smile. " _Dumbledore._ "

"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," said Tonks sadly. "Frightened of Dumbledore?" said Harry incredulously.

"Frightened of what he's up to," said Mr. Weasley. "You see; Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want —"

"Of course he doesn't," said Mr. Weasley. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

"Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice," said Lupin. "But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" said Harry angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up — that _I'd_ make it all up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," said Sirius bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"You see the problem," said Lupin. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the _Daily Prophet_ not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumor mongering, so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" said Harry, looking around at Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Bill, Mundungus, Lupin, and Tonks. "You're letting people know he's back?" They all smiled humorlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand-Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" said Sirius restlessly.

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," said Lupin. "It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Sorry, but werewolf?" Percy asked Lupin. "You're telling me you're a werewolf?" Lupin again nodded in confirmation. ' _Oh my gods'_ Percy thought ' _I just signed my death warrant. What have I gotten myself into?'_

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," said Sirius, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," said Mr. Weasley. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you're putting the news out that Voldemort's back —" Harry began.

"Who said none of us was putting the news out?" said Sirius. "Why d'you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?" "What d'you mean?" Harry asked.

"They're trying to discredit him," said Lupin. "Didn't you see the _Daily Prophet_ last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot — that's the Wizard High Court — and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," said Bill, grinning.

"It's no laughing matter," said Mr. Weasley shortly. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way — well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" asked Harry desperately.

"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," said Sirius. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well-practiced at operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked swiftly.

He thought he saw Sirius and Lupin exchange the most fleeting of looks before Sirius said, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

When Harry continued to look puzzled, Percy said," A weapon. Or some knowledge that would help him win. Something he didn't have last time." Once again they all looked at him, shocked," What? It's easy to figure out his plans if you imagine yourself to be a power-hungry savage!" Percy argued, ' _And if you've fought beings like them before._ ' Percy thought.

"Like what kind of weapon?" said Harry. "Something worse than the _Avada Kedavra_ — ?"

"That's enough."

Mrs. Weasley spoke from the shadows beside the door. No one had not noticed her return from taking Ginny upstairs. Her arms were crossed and she looked furious.

"I want you in bed, now. All of you," she added, looking around at Fred, George, Ron, Hermione and Percy.

"You can't boss us —" Fred began.

"Watch me," snarled Mrs. Weasley. She was trembling slightly as she looked at Sirius. "You've given them plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

"Why not?" said Harry quickly. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight —"

"No."

It was not Mrs. Weasley who spoke this time, but Lupin.

"The Order is comprised only of overage wizards," he said. "Wizards who have left school," he added, as Fred, George and Percy opened their mouths. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you . . . I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

Sirius half-shrugged but did not argue. Mrs. Weasley beckoned imperiously to her sons, Percy and Hermione. One by one they stood up and Harry, recognizing defeat, followed suit.

* * *

 **So that's it. Don't forget to like, follow, and review! Also if the number of reviews reach above 55, I will most definitely be uploading another chapter by this week. :D :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! Here's the chapter that I promised! Thanks for all the reviews! I never expected so many! Also, if you have read the guest review that says that I am blackmailing you all to review, then great! Because I am going to give you the reason.**

 **First of all, I might never be able to update after April 2019, because there is a possibility that I might go back to my home country for further studies. Since my family won't come with me, I will be living in a hostel, with no net connection. So if people ever review, I might not be able to read it.**

 **Also, I am writing a different story. One where wizards and demigods (or demigod in this case) are friends, rather than enemies. You all probably noticed it, too. Most of them treat the wizards as evil. Even though the idea of making wizards a little suspicious is great, but sometimes it goes too far. And I am getting bored of it. So I decided to write this. And I want to know what others think of it, whether it is great or not.**

 **Third, I would never stop writing this story. I am not only writing this for the readers, but for myself too. Its a fun way to spend time, and yes, I have been improving in English after starting this, but also because after I finish this, I want to read it and enjoy (or criticize). So there you go.**

 **Also this chapter is longer than the usual ones. And there is very little Percy in this. This is just for setting things up.(Thanks to AlchemyWriter for mentioning it in the review section. I forgot to put it here when I posted it.)**

 **Anyway, don't forget to like, review and follow! And happy Halloween!**

* * *

Mrs. Weasley followed them upstairs, looking grim.

"I want you all to go straight to bed, no talking," she said as they reached the first landing. "We've got a busy day tomorrow. I expect Ginny's asleep," she added to Hermione," so try not to wake her up."

"Asleep, yeah, right," Fred said in an undertone, after Hermione had bade them all goodnight and they were climbing to the next floor. "If Ginny's not lying awake waiting for Hermione to tell her everything they said downstairs, then I'm a flobberworm…"

"All right, Ron, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley on the second landing, pointing them into their bedroom." Off to be with you."

"'Night," Harry and Ron said to the twins.

"Sleep tight," said Fred, winking.

Mrs. Weasley closed the door behind Percy with a sharp snap. The bedroom was dark and gloomy, with a blank picture on the wall. Harry put on his pyjamas, took off his glasses, and climbed on to his chilly bed while Ron threw something to… Owls?!

Oh gods.

* * *

"Hey… hey! Oh gods! Ron that's my head! You just hit me, idiot!"

The owls had attacked. Being a son of Poseidon had its perks like being able to breath underwater, and full control of water, but there were downsides. Since owls were the sacred birds of Athena, and because of the rivalry between Athena and Poseidon, they tended to go a little berserk around him.

Right now, they were trying to get the owls to stop killing Percy. Ron cursed while Harry ran around with some kind of food, trying to lure the creatures away from the demigod.

"Gah!" Percy yelled as he tripped and fell on the bed.

CRACK

Fred and George appeared in the middle of the room, startling Harry. He jumped back, slipped, and fell on the floor. Ron had a pillow over his head, trying to scare Pig and Hedwig away, with no success, while Percy was twisting and turning around to avoid getting hurt. George began laughing while Fred smirked and waved his wand. Suddenly the birds were back in their cage.

Harry stood up slowly, setting his glasses straight, and moved to sit on the bed, while Ron helped Percy up. A few scratches were on his hands, but apart from that, Percy looked fine.

"Don't even ask." Percy said, and dropped down to sit on the floor, while Ron leaned against the wall.

"So, got there yet? George asked, eagerly.

"Got where?" Percy asked.

"The weapon Sirius mentioned?" Fred replied.

"Oh, you mean discussing what happened downstairs." Percy said. Fred nodded in confirmation.

"We didn't hear anything about the weapon using the Extendable Ears. He wasn't supposed to tell us that. Why do you think Mom and Lupin stopped him right them?" George said.

"What do you think it is?" Harry asked.

"Could be anything," said Fred.

"It can't be worse than the Avada Kedavra curse, can there?" said Ron. "What's worse than death?"

"Torture. Killing a loved one. Punishment. There are a lot of options, you know. Or maybe something to mass murder people. That'd save a lot of time," Percy said.

"He has the Cruciatus Curse for torturing," said Harry. "He doesn't need anything more efficient than that. Believe me, that's painful." Harry replied.

There was a pause after this. Everyone was thinking on what horrors this new weapon could cause.

"So who do you think has it now?" George asked.

"I hope it's our side," said Ron, nervously.

"If it is, then it's probably with Dumbledore. You heard the Order, You-Know-Who fears Dumbledore," Percy said.

"But where? Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"Bet it is!" said George. "That's where he hid the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"A weapon's going to be a lot bigger than the Stone, though!" said Ron.

"Not necessarily," said Fred and Percy at the same time.

"Yeah, size is no guarantee of power," said George. "Look at Ginny."

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"You've never been on the receiving end of her Bat-Bogey Hexes, have you?"

"Shhh!" said Fred, half-rising from the bed." Listen!"

They fell silent. Footsteps were coming up the stairs again.

"Mum," said George, and without further ado there was a loud crack and Harry felt the weight vanish from the end of his bed. A few seconds later and they heard the floorboard creak outside their door; Mrs. Weasley was plainly listening to see whether they were talking or not.

Hedwig and Pigwidgeon hooted dolefully. The floorboard creaked again and they heard her heading upstairs to check on Fred and George.

"She doesn't trust us at all, you know," said Ron regretfully.

Harry was sure he would not be able to fall asleep; the evening had been so packed with things to think about that he fully expected to lie awake for hours mulling it all over. He wanted to continue talking to Ron and Percy, but Mrs. Weasley was now creaking back downstairs again, and once she had gone he distinctly heard others making their way upstairs. . .. In fact, many-legged creatures were cantering softly up and down outside the bedroom door, and Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, was saying, " _Beauties, aren' they, eh, Harry? We'll be studyin' weapons this term._ . .." And Harry saw that the creatures had cannons for heads and were wheeling to face him. . .. He ducked. . ..

The next thing he knew, he was curled in a warm ball under his bedclothes, and George's loud voice was filling the room.

"Mum says get up, your breakfast is in the kitchen and then she needs you in the drawing room, there are loads more doxies than she thought and she's found a nest of dead puffskeins under the sofa."

"Doxies? Puffskeins? Am I still dreaming?" Percy mumbled from the corner of the room.

Half an hour later, Harry, Ron and Percy, who had dressed and breakfasted quickly, entered the drawing room, a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries. The carpet exhaled little clouds of dust every time someone put their foot on it and the long, moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing as though swarming with invisible bees. It was around these that Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were grouped, all looking rather peculiar, as they had tied cloths over their noses and mouths. Each of them was also holding a large bottle of black liquid with a nozzle at the end.

"Cover your faces and take a spray," Mrs. Weasley said to Harry, Percy and Ron the moment she saw them, pointing to three more bottles of black liquid standing on a spindle-legged table. "It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad — _what_ that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years —"

Hermione's face was half concealed by a tea towel but Harry distinctly saw her throw a reproachful look at Mrs. Weasley at these words.

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage —"

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione," said Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats. "I've just been feeding Buckbeak," he added, in reply to Percy's wide-eyed look. "I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. Anyway . . . this writing desk . . ."

He dropped the bag of rats onto an armchair, then bent over to examine the locked cabinet which, Harry now noticed for the first time, was shaking slightly.

"Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart," said Sirius, peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out — knowing my mother it could be something much worse."

"Right you are, Sirius," said Mrs. Weasley.

They were both speaking in carefully light, polite voices that told them all quite plainly that neither had forgotten their disagreement of the night before.

A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followed at once by the cacophony of screams and wails that had been triggered the previous night by Tonks knocking over the umbrella stand.

"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" said Sirius exasperatedly, hurrying back out of the room. They heard him thundering down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screeches echoed up through the house once more: " _Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth_ . . ."

"Close the door, please, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry took as much time as he dared to close the drawing room door; he wanted to listen to what was going on downstairs. Sirius had obviously managed to shut the curtains over his mother's portrait because she had stopped screaming. He heard Sirius walking down the hall, then the clattering of the chain on the front door, and then a deep voice he recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt's saying, "Hestia's just relieved me, so she's got Moody's cloak now, thought I'd leave a report for Dumbledore. . .."

Feeling Mrs. Weasley's eyes on the back of his head, Harry regretfully closed the drawing room door and re-joined the doxy party.

Mrs. Weasley was bending over to check the page on doxies in _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests,_ which was lying open on the sofa.

"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in front of the curtains, and beckoned them all forward.

"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said. "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."

She stepped carefully out of their line of fire and raised her own spray. "All right — _squirt_!"

Harry had been spraying only a few seconds when a fully grown doxy came soaring out of a fold in the material, shiny beetlelike wings whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared, its fairylike body covered with thick black hair and its four tiny fists clenched with fury. Harry caught it full in the face with a blast of Doxycide; it froze in midair and fell, with a surprisingly loud _thunk_ , onto the worn carpet below. Harry picked it up and threw it in the bucket. Percy was spraying like a maniac, and nearly drenched Hermione and Ginny in Doxycide.

"Fred, what are you doing?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "Spray that at once and throw it away!"

Harry looked around. Fred was holding a struggling doxy between his forefinger and thumb.

"Right-o," Fred said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted, but the moment Mrs. Weasley's back was turned he pocketed it with a wink.

"We want to experiment with doxy venom for our Skiving Snackboxes," George told Harry under his breath.

Deftly spraying two doxies at once as they soared straight for his nose, Harry moved closer to George and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "What are Skiving Snackboxes?"

"Range of sweets to make you ill," George whispered, keeping a wary eye on Mrs. Weasley's back. "Not seriously ill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. Fred and I have been developing them this summer. They're double-ended, colorcoded chews. If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half —"

"'— which restores you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of your own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom.' That's what we're putting in the adverts, anyway," whispered Fred, who had edged over out of Mrs. Weasley's line of vision and was now sweeping a few stray doxies from the floor and adding them to his pocket. "But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testers are having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end."

"Testers?"

"Us," said Fred. "We take it in turns. George did the Fainting Fancies — we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat —"

"Mum thought we'd been dueling," said George.

"If you guys perfect it, can I get a 1000 boxes?" Percy whispered, having heard the entire conversation.

"100 Galleons discount. Deal?"

"Deal. Also if I join you guys as testers, how much do I get as discount?"

"10 percent"

"Can you make that a 40?"

"Joke shop still on, then?" Harry muttered, pretending to be adjusting the nozzle on his spray.

"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," said Fred, dropping his voice even lower as Mrs. Weasley mopped her brow with her scarf before returning to the attack, "so we're running it as a mail-order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the _Daily Prophet_ last week."

"All thanks to you, mate," said George, who had finished bargaining with Percy. "But don't worry . . . Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the _Daily Prophet_ anymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you and Dumbledore."

Harry grinned. He had forced the Weasley twins to take the thousand-Galleon prize money he had won in the Triwizard Tournament to help them realize their ambition to open a joke shop, but he was still glad to know that his part in furthering their plans was unknown to Mrs. Weasley, who did not think that running a joke shop was a suitable career for two of her sons.

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Mrs. Weasley finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of dead rats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing and Fred and George were shooting covetous looks.

"I think we'll tackle _those_ after lunch."

Mrs. Weasley pointed at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantelpiece. They were crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages Harry could not understand and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what Harry was quite sure was blood.

The clanging doorbell rang again. Everyone looked at Mrs. Weasley.

"Stay here," she said firmly, snatching up the bag of rats as Mrs. Blacks screeches started up again from down below. "I'll bring up some sandwiches."

She left the room, closing the door carefully behind her. At once, everyone dashed over to the window to look down onto the doorstep. They could see the top of an unkempt gingery head and a stack of precariously balanced cauldrons.

"Mundungus!" said Hermione. "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"

"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," said Harry. "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

"Yeah, you're right!" said Fred, as the front door opened; Mundungus heaved his cauldrons through it and disappeared from view. "Blimey, Mum won't like that. . . ."

He and George crossed to the door and stood beside it, listening intently. Mrs. Black's screaming had stopped again.

"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fred muttered, frowning with concentration. "Can't hear properly . . . d'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

"Might be worth it," said George. "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair —"

But at that precise moment there was an explosion of sound from downstairs that rendered Extendable Ears quite unnecessary. All of them could hear exactly what Mrs. Weasley was shouting at the top of her voice.

"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"

"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to permeate the room better. "It makes such a nice change."

"— COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE —"

"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry — and there goes Sirius's mum again —"

Mrs. Weasley's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks and screams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, a house-elf edged into the room.

Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike.

The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry and the rest. Acting as though it could not see them, it shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room, muttering under its breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's, ". . . Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. . . ."

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap.

The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" said George. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. Apparently Percy did, because he promptly fell down laughing. The elf straightened up, eyeing him very carefully.

"And this boy who smells funny, like something powerful... and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know . . ."

"This is Harry, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively. "Harry Potter." Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever.

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say —"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny together, very angrily.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's —"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows _exactly_ what he's saying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike. Percy had stood up after the 'smells powerful' dialogue. The only creatures who could smell and find out that he was a demigod was monsters, and this certainly looked like one. But the others treated it like it was no danger, so Percy thought it was fine. But still, he kept a hand inside his pocket, where Riptide rested in its pen form.

Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry.

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it —"

"Don't we all, Kreacher?" said Fred.

"What do you want anyway?" George asked.

Kreacher's huge eyes darted onto George.

"Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.

"A likely story," said a voice behind Harry.

Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs. Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument down into the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor.

"Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently. "Now, what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black —"

"— and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius.

"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart —"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says," then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was —"

"I asked you what you were up to," said Sirius coldly. "Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," said the elf, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it —"

"I thought it might be that," said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."

It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was redolent of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.

"— comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too —"

"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf.

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermione pleadingly, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."

"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little —"

"If you just set him free," said Hermione hopefully, "maybe —"

"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," said Sirius curtly. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."

Sirius walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. Harry and the others followed.

The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as Harry could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:

 **The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black**

" **Toujours Pur"**

"You're not on here!" said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree.

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home — Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough." "Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.

"Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold — he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why — anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But . . . why did you . . . ?"

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them . . . that's him."

Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name regulus black. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth.

"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded." "But he died," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Sirius. "Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters." "You're kidding!"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius testily.

"Were — were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things. . . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Lunch," said Mrs. Weasley's voice.

She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. The others moved over to her, eager for some food, but Harry remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry.

"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus . . . my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had . . . and Araminta Meliflua . . . cousin of my mother's . . . tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal . . . and dear Aunt Elladora . . . she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays . . . of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her — he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him. . . ."

"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favorite cousin," said Sirius, examining the tapestry carefully. "No, Andromeda's not on here either, look —"

He pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa.

"Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggleborn, Ted Tonks, so —"

Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. Harry, however, did not laugh; he was too busy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burn mark. A double line of gold embroidery linked Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy, and a single vertical gold line from their names led to the name Draco.

"You're related to the Malfoys!"

"The pure-blood families are all interrelated," said Sirius. "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for them on here — if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys."

But Harry was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn: Bellatrix Black, which was connected by a double line to Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Lestrange . . ." Harry said aloud. The name had stirred something in his memory; he knew it from somewhere, but for a moment he couldn't think where, though it gave him an odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"They're in Azkaban," said Sirius shortly. Harry looked at him curiously.

"Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch, Junior," said Sirius in the same brusque voice. "Rodolphus's brother, Rabastan, was with them too."

And Harry remembered: He had seen Bellatrix Lestrange inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the strange device in which thoughts and memories could be stored: a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort, her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfall and her conviction that she would one day be rewarded for her loyalty.

"You never said she was your —"

"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" snapped Sirius. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. _She's_ certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming in to Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?"

"Sorry," said Harry quickly, "I didn't mean — I was just surprised, that's all —"

"It doesn't matter, don't apologize," Sirius mumbled at once. He turned away from the tapestry, his hands deep in his pockets. "I don't like being back here," he said, staring across the drawing room. "I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again."

Harry understood completely. He knew how he would feel if forced, when he was grown up and thought he was free of the place forever, to return and live at number four, Privet Drive.

"It's ideal for headquarters, of course," Sirius said. "My father put every security measure known to Wizard-kind on it when he lived here. It's Unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call — as if they'd have wanted to — and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know — nobody can find headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is — that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore. . . ." Sirius gave a short, barklike laugh. "If my parents could see the use it was being put to now . . . well, my mother's portrait should give you some idea. . . ." He scowled for a moment, then sighed.

"I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you to your hearing — as Snuffles, obviously — so I can give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?"

Harry felt as though his stomach had sunk through the dusty carpet. He had not thought about the hearing once since dinner the previous evening; in the excitement of being back with the people he liked best, of hearing everything that was going on, it had completely flown his mind. At Sirius's words, however, the crushing sense of dread returned to him. He stared at Hermione and the Weasleys, all tucking into their sandwiches, and thought how he would feel if they went back to Hogwarts without him.

"Don't worry," Sirius said. Harry looked up and realized that Sirius had been watching him. "I'm sure they're going to clear you, there's definitely something in the International Statute of Secrecy about being allowed to use magic to save your own life."

"But if they do expel me," said Harry, quietly, "can I come back here and live with you?" Sirius smiled sadly.

"We'll see."

"I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys," Harry pressed him.

"They must be bad if you prefer this place," said Sirius gloomily.

"Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left," Mrs. Weasley called.

"With Percy and Ron, there won't be anything for anyone to eat." Harry mumbled.

Sirius smirked, ruffled Harry's hair, and he and Harry went to join the others.

* * *

Harry tried his best not to think about the hearing while they emptied the glass cabinets that afternoon. Fortunately for him, it was a job that required a lot of concentration, as many of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a silver snuffbox; within seconds, his bitten hand had developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.

"It's okay," he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal, "must be Wartcap powder in there."

He threw the box aside into the sack where they were depositing the debris from the cabinets; Harry saw George wrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later and sneak the box into his already doxy-filled pocket.

They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry's arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin; Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy._ There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut; also a heavy locket that none of them could open, a number of ancient seals and, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for "Services to the Ministry."

"It means he gave them a load of gold," said Sirius contemptuously, throwing the medal into the rubbish sack.

Several times, Kreacher sidled into the room and attempted to smuggle things away under his loincloth, muttering horrible curses every time they caught him at it. When Sirius wrested a large golden ring bearing the Black crest from his grip Kreacher actually burst into furious tears and left the room sobbing under his breath and calling Sirius names Harry had never heard before.

"It was my father's," said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. "Kreacher wasn't _quite_ as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week."

* * *

Mrs. Weasley kept them all working very hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate; finally the only undesirable things left in it were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted all their attempts to remove it from the wall, and the rattling writing desk; Moody had not dropped by headquarters yet, so they could not be sure what was inside it.

They moved from the drawing room to a dining room on the ground floor where they found spiders large as saucers lurking in the dresser (Ron left the room hurriedly to make a cup of tea and did not return for an hour and a half). The china, which bore the Black crest and motto, was all thrown unceremoniously into a sack by Sirius, and the same fate met a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames, all of whose occupants squealed shrilly as the glass covering them smashed.

Snape might refer to their work as "cleaning," but in Harry's opinion they were really waging war on the house, which was putting up a very good fight, aided and abetted by Kreacher. The house-elf kept appearing wherever they were congregated, his muttering becoming more and more offensive as he attempted to remove anything he could from the rubbish sacks. Sirius went as far as to threaten him with clothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, "Master must do as Master wishes," before turning away and muttering very loudly, "but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudbloods and traitors and scum. . . ."

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione's protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.

The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for Harry and the others to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor, though they gleaned very little from the brief glimpses and snatches of conversation they were able to sneak before Mrs. Weasley recalled them to their tasks. Snape flitted in and out of the house several times more, though to Harry's relief they never came face-to-face; he also caught sight of his Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, looking very odd in a Muggle dress and coat, though she also seemed too busy to linger.

Sometimes, however, the visitors stayed to help; Tonks joined them for a memorable afternoon in which they found a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, and Lupin, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order, helped them repair a grandfather clock that had developed the unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passersby. Mundungus redeemed himself slightly in Mrs. Weasley's eyes by rescuing Ron from an ancient set of purple robes that had tried to strangle him when he removed them from their wardrobe.

Within this time, Hermione had taught Percy all about the wizarding world, including the spells and all the latest things happening in the wizarding world , so Percy was up to date on everything there is to know and could enter fifth year with them.

Despite the fact that he was still sleeping badly, still having dreams about corridors and locked doors that made his scar prickle, Harry was managing to have fun for the first time all summer. As long as he was busy he was happy; when the action abated, however, whenever he dropped his guard, or lay exhausted in bed watching blurred shadows move across the ceiling, the thought of the looming Ministry hearing returned to him. Fear jabbed at his insides like needles as he wondered what was going to happen to him if he was expelled. The idea was so terrible that he did not dare voice it aloud, not even to Ron and Hermione, who, though he often saw them whispering together and casting anxious looks in his direction, followed his lead in not mentioning it. Sometimes he could not prevent his imagination showing him a faceless Ministry official who was snapping his wand in two and ordering him back to the Dursleys' . . . but he would not go. He was determined on that. He would come back here to Grimmauld Place and live with Sirius.

He felt as though a brick had dropped into his stomach when Mrs. Weasley turned to him during dinner on Wednesday evening and said quietly, "I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight too. A good first impression can work wonders."

Ron, Hermione, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny all stopped talking and looked over at him. Harry nodded and tried to keep eating his chops, but his mouth had become so dry he could not chew.

"How am I getting there?" he asked Mrs. Weasley, trying to sound unconcerned.

"Arthur's taking you to work with him," said Mrs. Weasley gently. Mr. Weasley smiled encouragingly at Harry across the table.

"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," he said.

Harry looked over at Sirius, but before he could ask the question, Mrs. Weasley had answered it.

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I —"

"— think he's _quite right,_ "said Sirius through clenched teeth.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.

"When did Dumbledore tell you that?" Harry said, staring at Sirius.

"He came last night, when you were in bed," said Mr. Weasley.

Sirius stabbed moodily at a potato with his fork. Harry dropped his own eyes to his plate. The thought that Dumbledore had been in the house on the eve of his hearing and not asked to see him made him feel, if that were possible, even worse.

* * *

 **Enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! I'm back! Again, I'm so sorry for taking this long to update, but I was was stuck while writing this chapter. I've got to admit, this was probably the hardest chapter I've written so far. I have already started on the next chapter, so it will be out soon. There's not much Percy in this chapter, but it's a lot more than the previous one. It's going to be like this for a few chapters, because I need to set a base for this story, from which I can work on.**

 **Also, the characters in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to any person is purely coincidental. Harry Potter and Percy Jackson are owned by J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan respectively, and everything in this story except the plot is owned by them.**

 **I am now a Beta, so if anyone wants me to beta read their works, feel free to PM me.**

* * *

Percy was standing on top of Half-Blood Hill, near Thalia's pine tree. The Golden Fleece was perched on top of it, with Peleus guarding it. A slight breeze was blowing, ruffling his hair.

 _A dream_. Percy instantly realized. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Nico di Angelo stepped out, standing right next to him.

"You heard?" Nico asked. Seeing Percy's confused look, he explained," Apollo. He's going to be punished for Octavian's actions. Zeus is pissed off; he needs someone to take blame for this war. Artemis is trying to get him to calm down but it's not working. If anything bad happens, we're going to feel its effects."

"Wait, if anything bad happens? Zeus can't take his powers away, can he?"

"No. He can't take Apollo's powers like that. It's going to cause a huge unbalance on Olympus. And if that happens now, who knows what other threats we'll have to face. The gods are still trying to gain stability after Gaea's attack. Jason's promise for giving each of the gods a shrine got a lot of support from the minor gods, so they are with Olympus. The only problems are the monsters that Gaea managed to gather. Some of them are still trying to attack. But Chiron just sent out a few campers for protection duty across the city."

"So everything is fine. I hope it lasts. But with our luck- "

"Something is bound to happen," Nico finished," Where are you?" he asked. Percy grimaced. He figured this question would have come sooner.

"England. Apparently, I have another evil grandfather."

"You seriously have the worst luck in the history of demigods," Nico said, smirking slightly. Percy sighed. It was true.

"And to add icing on the cake, he's a wizard."

"Wait, is his name Voldemort?" Nico asked. Percy nodded in confirmation.

Suddenly they were standing in a dark room, with the only source of light being a green lamp on the corner of the room. There was a man sitting in the middle of the room, wearing a long black cloak, a huge snake curling around its neck. He had a chalk-white skull like face with slits for nostrils and red eyes with cat-like slits for pupils.

"Nico!" Percy whispered, shocked. "Why did you bring us here?"

"I didn't," Nico answered back. "I don't have control of this dream anymore."

"Who is this?"

"Vold- ohh! I said his name, Percy. I said your grandfather's name. I think he put some magic into that name," Nico said.

A door opened at the far end of the room. A man walked in and bowed before Voldemort.

"My Lord," he said. "We tried our best, my Lo- "

"Get to the point, Lucius," Voldemort hissed.

"Dumbledore took the boy," the man Lucius said, looking down.

"Ahh… what about the Department of Mysteries?"

"We are still trying, my Lord."

"Nagini, what should I do?" Voldemort asked, stroking the snake.

The snake hissed and looked at them, as if somehow sensing their presence. Nico grabbed his hand and they melted into the shadows.

* * *

Percy woke up, gasping for air.

 _That was one hell of a dream._ Percy thought as he threw the blanket off himself. He noticed Harry's and Ron's bed were empty so he quickly got ready and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey Percy," Mrs. Weasley greeted him as he walked in. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting there with Sirius, all looking worried.

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Percy replied, sitting next to Ron. "Where's Harry?"

"Hearing," Ron said. "I hope he doesn't get expelled."

"Ron," Sirius said. "He won't get expelled. Dumbledore is there. He'll get Harry out somehow."

"Hey, Sirius?" Percy asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied.

"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. Mrs. Weasley turned around and looked at him in shock.

"Where did you here that?" Sirius asked him sharply.

"That doesn't matter. What is in there?" Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Weasley cut him off.

"No," she said. "We are not in the liberty to share classified information with you."

"Is it where the weapon's being kept?" Percy pressed on." The one that You-Know-Who is looking for?"

Before Sirius could reply, the kitchen door opened, revealing a very ecstatic Harry.

* * *

"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione, who had looked positively faint with anxiety when Harry had entered the kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes. "There was no case against you, none at all..."

"Congrats, Harry!" Percy said.

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I'd get off," said Harry, smiling. Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went " _He_ _got off, he got off, he got off_ —"

"That's enough, settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley, though he too was smiling. "Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry —"

"What?" said Sirius.

" _He got off, he got off, he got off_ —"

"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know."

"Absolutely," said Sirius. "We'll tell him, don't worry."

"Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet in Bethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner —"

" _He got off, he got off, he got off_ —"

"That's enough — Fred — George — Ginny!" said Mrs. Weasley, as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen. "Harry dear, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast. . . ."

Ron and Hermione sat themselves down opposite him looking happier than they had done since he had first arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Harry's feeling of giddy relief, which had been somewhat dented by his encounter with Lucius Malfoy, swelled again. The gloomy house seemed warmer and more welcoming all of a sudden; even Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked his snoutlike nose into the kitchen to investigate the source of all the noise. Percy left the kitchen, saying something about going to the washroom.

"'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you," said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potatoes onto everyone's plates.

"Yeah, he swung it for me," said Harry. He felt that it would sound highly ungrateful, not to mention childish, to say, "I wish he'd talked to me, though. Or even _looked_ at me."

And as he thought this, the scar on his forehead burned so badly that he clapped his hand to it.

"What's up?" said Hermione, looking alarmed.

"Scar," Harry mumbled. "But it's nothing... It happens all the time now..."

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while gloating over Harry's narrow escape; Fred, George, and Ginny were still singing. Hermione was anxious, but before she could say anything, Ron said happily, "I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening to celebrate with us, you know."

"I don't think he'll be able to, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, setting a huge plate of roast chicken down in front of Harry. "He's really very busy at the moment."

" _HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF_ —"

"SHUT UP!" roared Mrs. Weasley.

* * *

"Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Annabeth Chase at…um…wherever she is." Percy said, throwing a drachma and controlling the water in the room to form a rainbow.

Annabeth's room suddenly appeared, with the said person reading a book in the corner of the room, her princess blonde hair tied in a messy bun. Percy smirked.

"WISE GIRL!" he yelled. Annabeth jumped up, her knife suddenly in hand. After seeing the source of the commotion, she calmed down and put it down. But she was glaring at him, which made Percy terrified.

"Umm…eh…Hi?" Percy stuttered.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled." What is wrong with you? I'm banning you from the Stolls." Percy gave her the baby seal eyes and she sighed.

"You heard?" she asked. Percy understood that it was about Apollo.

"Nico came in my dreams yesterday. He told me everything. And then we saw You-Know-Who."

"Who?"

"The evil dude here."

"Oh. At least you're being smart. Names have power, Percy."

"Learnt that the hard way. Hold on, did Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Goddess of Wisdon, call me _smart_?"

* * *

On the very last day of the holidays Harry was sweeping up Hedwig's owl droppings from the top of the wardrobe when Ron entered their bedroom carrying a couple of envelopes.

"Booklists have arrived," he said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this…. Where's Percy? His booklist is with me."

"Dunno," Harry said, sweeping the last of the droppings into a rubbish bag and threw the bag over Ron's head into the wastepaper basket in the corner, which swallowed it and belched loudly. He then opened his letter: It contained two pieces of parchment, one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September, the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year.

"Only two new ones," he said, reading the list. _"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5,_ by Miranda Goshawk and _Defensive Magical Theory,_ by Wilbert Slinkhard."

 _Crack._

Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He was so used to them doing this by now that he didn't even fall off his chair.

"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.

"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.

"And about time too," said Fred.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside them.

"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."

"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers." Yeah, I see what you mean."

"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred.

Ron did not answer. Harry looked around. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts.

"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. Fred's mouth fell open too.

"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter. " _Prefect_?"

George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Harry saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice.

"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark.

"No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect…."

The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way.

"We thought Dumbledore was _bound_ to pick you!" said George indignantly.

"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.

"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right."

He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look.

" _Prefect_. . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . ."

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him. Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it. A large P was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. He had seen a badge just like this on Percy Weasley's chest on his very first day at Hogwarts.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.

"Did you — did you get — ?"

She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek.

"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Me too, Harry, me too!"

"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."

"It — what?"

"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.

" _Ron_?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But . . . are you sure? I mean —" She turned red as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face.

"It's my name on the letter," he said.

"I . . ." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I . . . well. . . wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"

"Unexpected," said George, nodding.

"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not . . .Ron's done loads of . . . he's really . . ."

The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs. Weasley with Percy, carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.

"Ginny said the booklists had come at last," she said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into two piles. Percy sat down on the bed. "We're all going to Diagon Alley today, so we can get everything we need. Ron, I'll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing… What color would you like?"

"Get him red and gold to match his badge," said George, smirking.

"Match his what?" said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.

"His _badge,_ " said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new _prefect's badge._ "

Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley's preoccupation about pajamas.

"His . . . but . . . Ron, you're not. . .?" Ron held up his badge.

Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"

"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh _Ronnie_ —"

Fred and George were both making loud retching noises behind her back but Mrs. Weasley did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.

"Mum . . . don't . . . Mum, get a grip. . . ." he muttered, trying to push her away.

She let go of him and said breathlessly, "Well, what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, of course."

"W-what do you mean?" said Ron, looking as though he did not dare believe his ears.

"You've got to have a reward for this!" said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

"How about a nice new set of dress robes?"

"We've already bought him some," said Fred sourly, who looked as though he sincerely regretted this generosity.

"Or a new cauldron, Charlie's old one's rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers —"

"Mum," said Ron hopefully, "can I have a new broom?"

Mrs. Weasley's face fell slightly; broomsticks were expensive.

"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just — just a new one for a change . . ."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then smiled.

"Of _course_ you can. . . . Well, I'd better get going if I've got a broom to buy too. I'll see you all later. Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks. . . . A prefect . . . Oh, I'm all of a dither!"

She gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffed loudly, and bustled from the room. Fred and George exchanged looks.

"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice.

"We could curtsy, if you like," said George.

"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.

"Or what?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Going to put us in detention?"

"I'd love to see him try," sniggered George.

"He could if you don't watch out!" said Hermione angrily, at which Fred and George burst out laughing and Ron muttered, "Drop it, Hermione."

"We're going to have to watch our step, George," said Fred, pretending to tremble, "with these two on our case. . . ."

"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over," said George, shaking his head.

And with another loud _crack,_ the twins Disapparated.

"Those two!" said Hermione furiously, staring up at the ceiling, through which they could now hear Fred and George roaring with laughter in the room upstairs. "Don't pay any attention to them, Ron, they're only jealous!"

"Yeah, don't bother about them. Their experiments for perfecting the Nosebleed Nougats went wrong, so they're a bit sore from that," Percy said.

"I don't think they are jealous," said Ron doubtfully, also looking up at the ceiling. "They've always said only prats become prefects. . . . Still," he added on a happier note, "they've never had new brooms! I wish I could go with Mum and choose. . . . She'll never be able to afford a Nimbus, but there's the new Cleansweep out, that'd be great. . . . Yeah, I think I'll go and tell her I like the Cleansweep, just so she knows. . . ."

He dashed from the room, leaving Harry, Hermione and Percy alone. For some reason, Harry found that he did not want to look at either one of them. He turned to his bed, picked up the pile of clean robes Mrs. Weasley had laid upon it, and crossed the room to his trunk.

"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.

"Well done," said Harry, so heartily it did not sound like his voice at all, and still not looking at her. "Brilliant. Prefect. Great."

"Thanks," said Hermione. "Erm — Harry — could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They'll be really pleased — I mean, prefect is something they can understand —"

"Yeah, no problem," said Harry, still in the horrible hearty voice that did not belong to him. "Take her!"

He leaned over his trunk, laid the robes on the bottom of it, and pretended to be rummaging for something while Hermione crossed to the wardrobe and called Hedwig down. A few moments passed; Harry heard the door close but remained bent double, listening; the only sounds he could hear were the blank picture on the wall sniggering again and the wastepaper basket in the corner coughing up the owl droppings.

He straightened up and looked behind him. Hermione and Hedwig had gone. Harry returned slowly to his bed and sank onto it, gazing unseeingly at the foot of the wardrobe. He had forgotten completely about prefects being chosen in the fifth year. He had been too anxious about the possibility of being expelled to spare a thought for the fact that badges must be winging their way toward certain people. But if he _had_ remembered . . . if he _had_ thought about it . . . what would he have expected?

"I know how you feel, Harry." Percy said. Harry had completely forgotten about him." It's okay. You know, you should look at this from Ron's point of view. All his life he's been shunned down by his older brothers and by you."

"What do you mean, 'by me'?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter. The guy who survived the killing curse. The one destined for greatness. Don't you think he would a little sad by the fact that he doesn't get recognized for anything?" Harry looked down.

"It's not like I wanted it," Harry said.

"No, it's not. But no one seems to care about that. And you can't keep saying that you didn't want any of this. There's a reason you survived, Harry. You're the only ray of hope for all those people living in terror because of You-Know-Who. You need to stop him. And you're going to need your friends for that. You can't keep feeling dejected because you didn't get to be a Prefect. Ron deserves a chance to prove himself, you know," Percy said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling guilty. Percy was right, he shouldn't be angry. He should be happy that his best friend got to be a Prefect.

"It's not me you should say sorry to, it's Ron."

At this point Harry heard Ron's footsteps on the stairs again. He stood up, straightened his glasses, and hitched a grin onto his face as Ron bounded back through the door.

"Just caught her!" he said happily. "She says she'll get the Cleansweep if she can."

"Cool," Harry said, and he was relieved to hear that his voice had stopped sounding hearty. "Listen — Ron — well done, mate."

The smile faded off Ron's face.

"I never thought it would be me!" he said, shaking his head, "I thought it would be you!"

"Nah, I've caused too much trouble," Harry said, echoing Fred.

"Yeah," said Ron, "yeah, I suppose. . . . Well, we'd better get our trunks packed, hadn't we?"

Harry shot Percy a grateful smile. Percy was right, Ron deserved this.

* * *

"This is…oh my gods…Wow."

They were in Diagon Alley. To say that Percy was shocked was an understatement. _The wizards were clever_ , Percy thought. They managed to keep their existence a secret from the mortals for so long. If Annabeth was here; she'd be talking about the science behind all this.

They entered Gringotts first to collect money (and to get a loan for Percy). When they walked in, the goblins all turned to look at them. One of them quickly walked up to them.

"Perseus Jackson," he said. Percy looked at him, surprised, "Follow me." Mrs. Weasley followed them too, but the goblin gave her an annoyed look and said," I only said Perseus Jackson."

"Percy," the demigod said, correcting him automatically, "It's okay Mrs. Weasley. I can take care of myself." She looked a little worried, but still nodded and left. Goblins were hostile, but Percy was a smart kid. Besides, they were running out of time anyway.

"How did the goblin know his name?" Harry asked Hermione and Ron, who were standing right next to him.

"Maybe Dumbledore already came to Gringotts and set a loan for him?" Hermione guessed.

"But then why would they not let Mrs. Weasley go with them?" Harry said.

"I don't know how this loan works, Harry. Why don't you ask Percy when he comes back?" she told him, and then moved to the counter to exchange her muggle money for Galleons. Having nothing else to do, Ron went with her, while Harry went to get money from his vault with Mrs. Weasley.

* * *

"Do you have a name?" Percy asked the goblin, as they walked towards a creepy looking cave.

"Greyhold," he said," I haven't seen your kind in quite some time."

"My kind?" Percy asked, fearing the worst. Oh gods.

"I know who you are, son of Posiedon. The recent tales of the demigods who saved Olympus from Gaea has reached the wizarding world."

"How?!" Percy exclaimed, "This place doesn't have any connections with Olympus!"

"Oh, but it does, Mr. Jackson. Magic is Hecate. The first wizards on Earth was blessed by her. The wizards who built Hogwarts were children of Hecate, though they were not aware of this. They held exceptional power, but not as much as the children of the Olympians, because of which they were not seen as a threat by the gods."

"So the gods don't know of this worlds existence?"

"Only a handful are aware. Athena, Posiedon, Hades and Zeus, to be more specific. This world was Heacte's dream, a chance for her to rule. Zeus allowed it exist for this long reluctantly, as long as it doesn't cause problems to the rest of the world. But the Dark Lord's actions could cause this to change. It would mean the end of this world, if he is not stopped."

They were now in front of a huge door, made of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold with designs in Stygian Iron. It looked like one of Athena's designing, each pattern carved perfectly.

"Put a drop of your blood here," he said, indicating to a small bowl filled with some liquid. It was not water, that much he could tell. "Opening this vault requires confirmation that you are a demigod."

Percy sighed and took the knife which was on a stand. He made a small cut on his palm with the knife, wincing slightly. He then dipped his hand on the bowl, watching the liquid turn red and then pulled out his hand, which was now completely healed.

The doors to the vault opened, and Greyhold motioned for him to enter, saying," This was created by Zeus for the demigods who might come here. Drachmas and the wizarding currency is there along with weapons, in case any monsters were to attack. I'm not allowed to enter due to the enchantments present. You may take whatever you want." He said and the doors closed.

Percy looked around, and saw a pouch on the corner. He took it, and walked around, grabbing a handful of coins as he did.

* * *

"So we got books, ingredients for potions, and robes. What else do we need?" Mrs. Weasley asked the group.

"Wand," Hermione said, looking at Percy.

"And a broom," Ron added.

"So Ginny and I will go get your broom while you four go to Ollivaders and get a wand for Percy," Mrs. Weasley said, and walked off with Ginny right behind her. The two red-heads turned right and disappeared around the corner.

"What happened in Gringotts? Where did that goblin take you?" Ron asked Percy, while they were on their way to the wand shop.

"Err.. Dumbledore had set up some kind of loan for me. They had to do some sort of checking about that," Percy said. Greyhold had told him that lie, saying that the demigod world was not to be exposed to the wizards. The three seemed to buy the story anyways, since they didn't question him further. After a few minutes, they stood in front of Ollivanders.

"This place looks like it got hit by a tornado," Percy said, entering the shop. Boxes were scattered around the place, and a few glass shards were littered around, adding to the mess. In other words, it was dirtier than his room.

"Oh, it was. A girl was testing out a wand a few moments ago, and this was the result," a voice said, and an old man came from around the corner, holding out a wand. He flicked it, and the boxes flew back to the shelves that were in the room. The dust and dirt rose up and disappeared off into thin air, and the broken glass flew back into its place in the window. The shop looked much better now, and Ron whistled in approval.

"You've got to teach me that," Ron said," I won't have to hear Mom's yelling ever again." Percy and Harry nodded to that, while Hermione just shook her head in exasperation.

"So, what can I do for you?" Ollivander asked them.

"I need a wand," Percy said.

"Ahh…yes...I think I have the perfect wand for you..-yes," Ollivander mumbled, and he turned around, walking towards the shelves, grabbing the measuring tape as he went.

* * *

Ollivander did _not_ have the perfect wand for him. They were in his shop for an hour, and all of them had lost hope in finding a wand. Only Ollivander seemed optimistic and was apparently happy that he had found a tricky customer.

"Even I didn't take this long to get a wand!" Harry exclaimed. His scar was starting to hurt, and he was getting annoyed by the second. Hermione was watching with curiosity while Ron laughed at Percy's plight.

The wand maker came back, this time with a different coloured box. It was a green box, with black, blue and grey designs.

"A powerful witch gave this to me a long time back, along with another wand. This was meant for a wizard, and the other for a witch. Their owners are connected, just like their wands. Try it," he said, extending the box out to Percy. Ron, Hermione and Harry watched, having a feeling that this was going to be interesting.

Percy opened the box, and took out the wand. Suddenly, white light erupted from it, and surrounded him. Even though he couldn't he anything, he could feel a godly presence. More specifically, his Dad's. He felt stronger and calmer, as though he had just swum on the beach. All the light quickly went back into the wand, and Percy smiled. Holding the wand, he somehow felt better. The wand maker stood in front of him, grinning widely, while Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I knew it. This wand was meant for a powerful wizard, a hero, who is loyal. It is a very strong wand, even more powerful than the Elder Wand. Made out of Celestial Bronze, with Imperial Gold engraving, the two rarest and most powerful magical metals in the entire universe. A Pegasus tail hair core, with and owl's feather as a companion. I expect great things from you, Mr. Jackson. Great things." He said, and sent them off.

* * *

Down in the basement, Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read 'Congratulations Ron and Hermione — new prefects'. She had ran down to the kitchen, after coming from Diagon Alley to prepare for diner, where almost all the members of the Order were coming to. She looked in a better mood than Harry and Percy had seen her all holiday.

"I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner," she told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny as they entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled," she added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after they had got themselves a butterbeer.

"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages — could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."

"No problem, Molly . . ."

Moody's electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. "Drawing room . . ." he growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it. . . . Yeah, it's a boggart. . . . Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"

"No, no, I'll do it myself later," beamed Mrs. Weasley. "You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually. . . ." She gestured at the scarlet banner. "Fourth prefect in the family!" she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin.

"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, "authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you. . . ." Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's traveling cloak.

"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects," Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded.

"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.

"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks. Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.

"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh.

"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally." Harry's mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.

Ron was rhapsodizing about his new broom to anybody who would listen. ". . . naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two Ninety's only naught to sixty and that's with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?"

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights. "I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures. . . ."

Mrs. Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill's hair. ". . . getting really out of hand, and you're so good-looking, it would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Harry?"

"Oh — I dunno —" said Harry, slightly alarmed at being asked his opinion; he slid away from them in the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus. Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.

"It's okay," he told Mundungus, "we can trust Harry, he's our financial backer."

"Look what Dung's gotten us," said George, holding out his hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shriveled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary.

"Venomous Tentacula seeds," said George. "We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes but they're a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance so we've been having a bit of trouble getting hold of them."

"Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?" said Fred.

"Wiv all the trouble I went to to get 'em?" said Mundungus, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. "I'm sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty."

"Dung likes his little joke," Fred said to Harry.

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of knarl quills," said George.

"Be careful," Harry warned them quietly.

"What?" said Fred. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we're okay."

"But Moody could have his eye on you," Harry pointed out. Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder.

"Good point, that," he grunted. "All right, lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick."

"Cheers, Harry!" said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off toward the food. "We'd better get these upstairs. . . ."

Harry watched them go, feeling slightly uneasy. It had just occurred to him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would want to know how Fred and George were financing their joke shop business when, as was inevitable, they finally found out about it. Giving the twins his Triwizard winnings had seemed a simple thing to do at the time, but what if it led to another family row and a Percy-like estrangement? Would Mrs. Weasley still feel that Harry was as good as her son if she found out he had made it possible for Fred and George to start a career she thought quite unsuitable?

Standing where the twins had left him with nothing but a guilty weight in the pit of his stomach for company, Harry caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter.

". . . why Dumbledore didn't make Potter a prefect?" said Kingsley.

"He'll have had his reasons," replied Lupin.

"But it would've shown confidence in him. It's what I'd've done," persisted Kingsley, " 'specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days. . . ."

Harry did not look around; he did not want Lupin or Kingsley to know he had heard. He followed Mundungus back toward the table, though not remotely hungry. His pleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it had come; he wished he were upstairs in bed. Mad-Eye Moody was sniffing at a chicken leg with what remained of his nose; evidently he could not detect any trace of poison, because he then tore a strip off it with his teeth.

Percy was sitting at the corner of the table, playing with the wand in his hand. Harry went off to sit beside him.

"Hey," Percy said, not looking at him. "What happened? Don't feel like you fit in?" Harry shrugged in reply.

"I don't think I belong here," Percy said. "I had this entire year planned out, you know? Go off to a college in California with Annabeth, graduate, enjoy some peace and quiet for once, and all that. I thought of so many things that would interrupt my plans, and how we'd get past all those problems. An evil grandfather who is a wizard was not part of those."

"Whose Annabeth?" Harry asked.

"My girlfriend," Percy said, smiling. Harry looked at him, shocked.

"What?" Percy asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Harry said.

You don't know a lot of things about me, Percy thought but said nothing. They sat there, listening to everyone else.

". . . the handle's made of Spanish oak with anti-jinx varnish and in-built vibration control —" Ron was saying to Tonks. Mrs. Weasley yawned widely. "Well, I think I'll sort out that boggart before I turn in. . . . Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, all right? 'Night, Harry, dear."

She left the kitchen. Percy went with Mrs. Weasley, saying that he was tired. Harry set down his plate and wondered whether he could follow them without attracting attention. "You all right, Potter?" grunted Moody.

"Yeah, fine," lied Harry. Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eye staring sideways at Harry.

"Come here, I've got something that might interest you," he said. From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one. . . . Thought people might like to see it." Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.

"There's me," said Moody unnecessarily, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact.

"And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side . . . That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom —" Harry's stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville.

"Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than what happened to them . . . and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously . . . Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him . . . shift aside there," he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.

"That's Edgar Bones . . . brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard . . . Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young . . . Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body . . . Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever . . . Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat . . . Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes . . . budge along, budge along . . ."

The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture. "That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke . . . That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally . . . Sirius, when he still had short hair . . . and . . . there you go, thought that would interest you!"

Harry's heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He was the one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped bring about their deaths.

"Eh?" said Moody. Harry looked up into Moody's heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.

"Yeah," said Harry, attempting to grin again. "Er . . . listen, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my . . ." He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he had not packed; Sirius had just said, "What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?" and Moody had turned toward him.

Harry crossed the kitchen slipped through the door and up the stairs before anyone could call him back. He did not know why he had received such a shock; he had seen his parents' pictures before, after all, and he had met Wormtail . . . but to have them sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it . . . No one would like that, he thought angrily. . . . And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces . . . Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness . . . all waving happily out of the photograph forevermore, not knowing that they were doomed. . . . Well, Moody might find that interesting . . . he, Harry, found it disturbing.

Harry tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elf heads, nearing his room, when he heard someone screaming. He ran up the remaining few flights of stairs, and saw the source of the commotion.

Percy.

* * *

Percy had gone up to his room, after saying a goodnight to Mrs. Weasley who had entered the room next to his to remove something called a boggart. Even after studying about it, he forgot about what it does.

That was his first mistake.

He was talking to his mom when he heard the sobbing. Mrs. Weasley, he instantly thought. He said goodbye to his mom, and quickly ran out of his room and entered the next, Riptide in pen form in his hand.

Mrs. Weasley was lying on the floor and was crying. She was looking at a boy, who was lying on the floor. There was blood around him, and suddenly he realized that the boy was Ron.

"Wha- How?" Percy said, looking shocked. He quickly ran towards him, when suddenly Ron's body started changing.

Annabeth was now lying in place of Ron, a knife in her stomach. Her eyes looked glazed, and there were cuts all over her body. Percy fell to his knees, and crawled towards Annabeth, hoping that she wasn't dead.

"Please…no.. Annabeth…" he mumbled, tears flowing from his eyes." ANNABETH!" he screamed. "NOO…"

He blinked, and suddenly it was his Mom in place of Annabeth. He cried louder. No... this couldn't be happening. He screamed again, and saw his Dad, looming over him.

"I wish you weren't born. You are a mistake, "he said.

"Riddikulus!" Lupin yelled, and his dad vanished. A silvery orb hung in the air over the spot where it had lain. Lupin waved his wand once more and the orb vanished in a puff of smoke.

As soon as the rest of the order had heard Percy's screams, they had followed Harry, and instantly realized what had happened. Ron, Harry and Ginny ran over to Mrs. Weasley, trying to calm her down, while Lupin went to Percy. The poor boy was shaking so badly, tears streaming down his face.

"I-I didn't realize-boggart-fears.." Percy mumbled.

"It's alright. Nothing was real," Lupin assured him. He helped him get back to his feet. Percy, after seeing Mrs. Weasley, he wiped his tears and went over to her.

"Oh — oh — oh!" gulped Mrs. Weasley, and she broke into a storm of crying, her face in her hands.

"Molly," said Lupin bleakly, walking over to her, "Molly, don't . . ." Next second she was sobbing her heart out on Lupin's shoulder.

"Molly, it was just a boggart," he said soothingly, patting her on the head. "Just a stupid boggart . . ."

"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Mrs. Weasley moaned into his shoulder. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it . . ."

Moody was looking at Percy, who avoided his gaze. He had a feeling that Moody had seen what had happened, with that weird eye of his.

"D-d-don't tell Arthur," Mrs. Weasley was gulping now, mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. "I d-d-don't want him to know. . . . Being silly . . ."

Lupin handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.

"Percy.. I'm so so-sorry. I j-just saw them d-dead and...-" Mrs. Weasley said.

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. It's not like I was much help." Percy replied. He was still shaking slightly, and Mrs. Weasley moved to hug him. He gladly accepted it.

"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this. . . . and P-P-Percy's not talking to us. . . . What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," said Lupin firmly. "This isn't like last time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to —"Mrs. Weasley gave a little squeak of fright at the sound of the name.

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing it — look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time, you weren't in the Order then, you don't understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one. . . ."

"Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius abruptly. "He'll come round. It's a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology," he added bitterly.

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," said Lupin, smiling slightly, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?" Mrs. Weasley smiled tremulously.

"Being silly," she muttered again, mopping her eyes.

Percy didn't think so. It was true, there were chances that they would die. He knew that it was going to end in a war, there was no way Voldemort would be defeated easily. A war was coming and they were in the middle of it. And it was going to end in death. Like every other war he has been in.

* * *

 **So I think an** **explanation is in order. The "Don't use Voldemort's name" thing will be explained in the next chapter. The incident in Ollivander's shop seems dumb, but it's a very important part. A character from Percy Jackson will be introduced in the next chapter, which I'm already half way done with. The idea of Annabeth and his Mom dying in Percy's fear is usually what is seen, and it was something that I've wanted to do since the beginning of this story. Percy being afraid of his Dad disowning him was a later addition to the story, which was a suggestion given by a Guest. Thank you for that idea. I hadn't thought about it initially, and this will be addressed in later on in the story. Most of you might be thinking that Percy recovered too soon from the boggart incident. You should remember that Percy is a hero. Chances are that he'd help someone else before helping himself. Also all of his fears are things that he has already faced in his life. He thought his Mom had died in the Minotaur attack. Annabeth is a demigod like him, which means she too faces the threat of dying. Percy's Dad had already said that he wished Percy wasn't born, right after he had found the lightning bolt. Which practically means he has faced his fears, but have not overcome them. So he'd easily recover from them, once he realizes that they are not real. Also, I know the goblin's name is kind of dumb. So if you have any suggestions, PM me. I'll probably change it once I find a good name.**

 **Thank you so much for reading this story and for reviewing. Until next time.**

 **ilovethecoloursilver**


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